


Boundless

by persephine



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Lingerie, Mentions of alcohol, Valentine’s Day, White Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 04:32:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17780618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephine/pseuds/persephine
Summary: Love unyielding, meant for you and you alone.(Makoto and Akechi celebrate Valentine’s Day and White Day.)





	1. Chapter 1

“What do you want to do for Valentine’s Day?”

 

Makoto peeked her head out of the covers with only tousled bangs and tired red eyes visible.

 

“Sleep,” she muttered through the covers before returning underneath them.

 

She heard the rumble of quiet laughter before rustles followed. Akechi was either getting ready to pull the covers off or climb right back into bed with her. Already dressed for work, hair combed and immaculate, he was punctual with his timing to pull her out of bed for work. It seemed it’d been this way for the last month or so with good reason.

 

“Fine, what do you _want_ for Valentine’s Day?” he tried again.

 

“For this case to solve itself,” she sighed indignantly before turning onto her side, and then quietly, “New Buchi merch…”

 

“Honey-“

 

“Yes, I know they’re no longer being manufactured but you still _asked,”_ she said defiantly.

 

“Did you adopt this bratty behavior overnight?” he teased.

 

“Yes,” she said, feeling indignant as ever.

 

There was a pause, and for some reason, even under the covers, Makoto knew he was flicking his wrist to check the time. She listened to him sip what was left from the coffee cup before setting it down on the nightstand.

 

She winced, hugging the comforter close to her body for the last bits of residual warmth as her body sensed danger approaching. And at the perfect time, 7:35 AM, the calculated amount it took for Makoto to get ready in the morning to catch the 8:11 AM train, Akechi yanked the covers from her hands and watched her clam up and groan.

 

“It’s time to get up, my love,” he told her gently.

 

His voice was enough of a physical marker on her to conjure her body from the bed. Dread sank in both in the form of the work she’d set out to do for the case, and the holiday ahead of them.

 

———

 

Akechi didn’t like giving surprises. He wanted the world to know it was him, and he wasn’t shy about that one bit —especially with Makoto. He wanted every protruding pair of eyes that garnered even the slightest curiosity as to what they were like behind closed doors to know that he loved her in every way but ephemeral.

 

He’d made plans for the big day before abruptly cancelling them in immediate hindsight. He loved flashy, and it was obvious in his mannerisms, hobbies, and the way he doted upon Makoto especially. And yet, the private sort of life she led, caring much about what people thought had seeped into their relationship so that Akechi honored her grievances about the glitz and glamor of power behind their bond. He clicked ‘Cancel Reservation’ with slight regret, hopping on exactly at midnight long past his bedtime to grab the highly-desired seats at a restaurant near work they could’ve went to for that fateful evening.

 

Akechi didn’t consider himself thoughtful. It was strange, but he never put much thought into how, what, or why he’d do something. There was just this gut feeling inside of him —the conviction of _knowing_ he was frequently correct — that dictated how he careened his gifts or affections. Especially for Makoto —always for Makoto.

 

He considered buying her roses. She didn’t like chocolate. He thought about patching up that ragged, old Buchimaru plush she’d begrudgingly placed onto a display shelf when she moved in with him. She was a grown woman now, and Akechi was the only _stuffed animal_ she needed. On particularly off days when he couldn’t make it home in time to duck under the covers with her and go to sleep together, he’d make sure he would leave Buchi on his side of the bed, tucked and ready to be cuddled when she got home.

 

Akechi wasn’t thoughtful. He considered buying her a star to commemorate the time they got lost on their first date in Shinjuku of all places. He’d asked a fortune teller who set up shop along one of the alleys for directions. After listening to her insist on a free reading of their relationship, he caught Makoto reading her horoscope one morning.

 

 _A match made in hell, but if one of you would be willing to bend, then maybe the stars will smile upon you_ , she had said.

 

He rid of the idea when he realized he had been considering placating the gods above to ensure that Makoto didn’t leave him. He’d be the one to bend before he let that happen, Akechi swore.

 

He thought practically, and that meant preparing for White Day. Makoto was thoughtful, and quite the overthinker. A bit more on her table than she can handle and she pulls away completely to take care of it. Akechi knew the former student council president would’ve gone through the entire month of time in between to find a way to one-up his gift. Not only did he dread the idea of her even thinking for one that she could win, but he knew it’d sit and simmer in the back of her mind, eating away at her unconsciousness.

 

Akechi considered splurging and going halfway with her on something they’d otherwise never purchase. He’d cover the entirety of the gift first, and come time for White Day, Makoto would pay him half of it. It was practical, sensible, and economical —everything that applied to her. And yet, anything and everything he wanted, he’d simply buy it before there was even a point of which Makoto would even have known he wanted it. He was just that sort of man.

 

Flowers, he groaned. He went back to the idea of flowers. It wasn’t his style, but he would make it as such.

 

He had passed by the Underground in Shibuya many times to know the popular flower shop located there was well-stocked in gift ideas. They’d been advertising their special Valentine’s bouquet for the entirety of February, and as unoriginal as he was going to be, Akechi had to go with it.

 

He wasn’t thoughtful. If he was, he might have imported the seeds, planted it in a pot he spun in a pottery class, watered it every other day while it sat on the window sill of his office, and by Valentine’s Day, Akechi might have presented it to Makoto as a mere token of his love for her. Nurtured, cared for, and representative of the love that he had grown to hold for her. Pretentious.

 

Love wrought him and locked him in a dark cave for years. He wasn’t meant for love, but he was meant to love Makoto. And love spun him in circles with a woven bag over his head, leaving him dizzy and sick. He didn’t grow that love, lest nurture it. That love strangled him, unyielding. It took Akechi by a whirlwind that by the end of it, he knew it wasn’t love that was grown from beginning to end, nor something that he came to acknowledge. It was always dormant within him, and Akechi never half assed any one thing. No, to say that the love and patience and all the lies in between were what held him rooted in his devotion was simply untrue.

 

Growing from a place without love, it would make sense that once he found it, Akechi would take it and never let it go. Losing her wasn’t an option, nor a possibility, and he made it as such. Akechi came to terms with this long ago, and never wavered.

 

And so, Akechi wasn’t thoughtful, not one bit. He simply did because it was right to do so, because the conviction of being in love, and loving Makoto was just a fact of nature. It was second nature.

 

He thought all of this on the way to Shibuya the night before Valentine’s Day. The feelings sent a shiver up his spine, and the announcement of the train’s destination brought him out of his otherworldly monologue. Akechi made the trek underground by memory, and only in the first few seconds of regaining his footing in reality did he realize it was the night before Valentine’s Day. Every _amazing_ boyfriend was out in a panic to get their girlfriends gifts for the day tomorrow. He picked up his pace to the flower shop.

 

He was nervous, considering back up plans already when he turned the second to last corner, a trait he picked up from being around Makoto so much. He could feel bile in his throat when his eyes glossed over a head of wavy black hair manning the stand, and he scoffed in further realization. Kurusu Akira —still working at this place after graduating university?

 

“Evenin’,” Akira greeted him like an old friend.

 

“Kurusu. Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Akechi cleared his throat politely.

 

“Is that why I don’t see you at LeBlanc anymore?” the florist joked.

 

“It’s not conveniently on my way to work anymore,” Akechi joked in return, “You’re closing soon, right?”

 

“Yep. Flowers for Makoto, right?”

 

“Per usual,” he sighed, already tired of the amount of chatter to get to the point, “The special, if you’d be so kind.”

 

Akira grimaced and made a sound to match it. His face contorted slightly in regret and remorse.

 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Akechi asked hurriedly.

 

“You came just _slightly_ too late. They were a huge hit this year, selling like pancakes-“

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“I’m not, Goro!-“

 

“Don’t call me that,” he narrowed his eyes.

 

“Look, you don’t want that bouquet. I had to make all of them and the stuff we use is just off the counter supplies. The flowers are nice and all, but they’re not one of a kind. Don’t you want to get Makoto something nicer?” he prodded.

 

“It’s not the item that matters,” he replied airily, “Makoto isn’t fond of anything in particular.”

 

“Besides Buchi.”

 

“... I’m set on flowers. I have a very specific plan to go with them, if you must know, and that’s why the flowers themselves don’t matter,” he explained begrudgingly.

 

Akechi disliked that Akira knew this little niche fact about Makoto, albeit she didn’t hide it all too well in high school or college. Even now, that old pencil pouch her father gave her when she was younger sat faithfully at her work desk holding her wares.

 

“The flowers do matter. I’m right beside you about the thought counting and all, but take it from a guy who knows the language of flowers well.”

 

Akechi knew it was bullshit, but why pass up the opportunity to be unintendedly flashy with one of a kind flowers?

 

“Fine. Is this when I divulge all the adjectives that describe our relationship and you whip up the best you’ve got?” he sneered impatiently before adding quickly, “Actually, I’ll decide.”

 

Akechi wasn’t thoughtful, and when he leaned against the wall opposite the flower shop pondering for ten minutes his own limited knowledge of flowers and their meanings, he ran into some trouble.

 

“You plan on marrying her, don’t you?” Akira asked out of the blue nonchalantly.

 

“I don’t want roses,” he said, ignoring the question.

 

“Funny. You wanted the bouquet just a moment ago, and that was a dozen red roses-“

 

“That was then, this is now. Do you have dark red carnations? Chamomile? Heliotropes?”

 

Akira smiled, avoiding his gaze.

 

“Like her that much, huh?” he asked in hidden envy, “No, unfortunately we’re a simple flower shop.”

 

“Then what’s the whole point of you dragging me around like this?”

 

“You’re the one who didn’t want my help. I offered!”

 

“Fine, I’m taking your offer. And by that, I mean give me a list of the flowers you have and I’ll choose from there,” Akechi sighed.

 

“We’ll have to work quick. I need to close in 15,” Akira told him, eyes darting for other customers.

 

“Fine, fine.”

 

It went on like this for some time, but with Akira’s insistence, Akechi finally accepted some of his help albeit begrudgingly. They settled on something that was pretty to look at minus all the meanings. If he had to explain to her what each one meant, then the whole spiel in his head earlier on the train would have been for nought.

 

“You had to pick the most expensive ones, huh?” Akira laughed.

 

“I wasn’t made aware of the cost, and it matters not,” he dismissed.

 

Akechi felt his blood freeze when he reached for his wallet in the back of his pocket and felt nothing. He held still, and at times like this, he was always calm and collected no matter what. He reached for his attaché case, spinning it away from Akira so he wouldn’t see the code nor the contents. A minute or two after searching the entirety of it, he looked up.

 

“I lost my wallet.”

 

“You… You mean someone stole it,” Akira said.

 

“I don’t know what the verdict is, but it’s gone and-“

 

“You can’t pay for the flowers,” he grimaced sympathetically.

 

“Don’t need to state the obvious. How early do you open tomorrow-“

 

“Just take them. The flowers,” Akira said, shoving the bouquet into his arms, “I’ll cover you.”

 

“Oh, you know how much I don’t like that.”

 

“Fine, you can pay me back the next time you see me. Come see me at LeBlanc or whatever, bring Makoto. Whatever works.”

 

“I need to be able to repay you now.”

 

“Why?”

 

Akechi considered the truth for a moment. He was already obviously showing his disdain for the man this entire time, why not go the distance?

 

“Because I’d rather not owe you favors, which in turn become an unending cycle I’m incapable of breaking free from.”

 

“Ouch. Didn’t have to be that honest-“

 

“Look. Is there something I can give you now to pay for these? I’ve got…”

 

He ran through his mind of the contents in his case: gun, gun case, case papers, fountain pen from Makoto (out of the question), some gum.

 

“Some things I’d be willing to barter,” he finished.

 

Akira thought for a second before raising his glasses on the perch of his nose.

 

“I have an idea. You probably won’t like it though.”

 

———

 

“You’re right, I hate it.”

 

“Shh! Doesn’t this place have security?”

 

“If they caught me, their esteemed detective, trying to sneak into work to do some after hours for them, do you think they’d care?”

 

“But you’re not doing that.”

 

“Then I’d keep quiet unless you’re a good liar.”

 

The lights were off and using the last bit of battery on Akechi’s phone as a flashlight —why wasn’t that an item he kept in his case — the florist and detective snuck over to Makoto’s desk.

 

“She hasn’t changed-“

 

“Shh,” Akechi hushed him in return, unwilling to listen to him jabber about his memories of Makoto. In fact, if he completely forgot about her, he might’ve liked the man more.

 

Akechi left the flowers right by her keyboard.

 

“Is that the best place to put it?”

 

He thought for a moment longer before laying the bouquet out on the shelf she had set up, visible for everyone to see that there were flowers for her.

 

“Hmm. Is there a vase anywhere?”

 

“Who brings a- … one of the girls who moved departments left hers. I’ll have to remember where her desk is,” Akechi realized, “Hell.”

 

“You really didn’t think this through.”

 

“I knew I’d get her flowers, I’d sneak back into work to put them on her desk before she got to work, and everyone would know they were from me,” Akechi explained fervently.

 

“That’s it?” Akira coughed.

 

“And then she’d have to carry them back home because the comments will prove to be too embarrassing.”

 

“Never mind, you did think this out.”

 

“Stay here, I’m going to find that damn vase,” he sighed.

 

Akechi left with the light and all Akira could see was the rectangle glow bounce off the ceiling as he made his trek through the dark office. He was lucky that Akechi returned without a hitch because his paranoia of getting caught was starting to catch up to him —a far cry of change in demeanor from his delinquent years in high school.

 

Akechi fidgeted with the phone for a moment, attempting to put the flowers in the vase while holding the light source.

 

“Here, let me,” Akira offered.

 

“Take the phone.”

 

“Hell, you really are something,” he laughed lowly, “You don’t even have to mention me if she asks.”

 

“She won’t,” Akechi smirked, focusing on the flowers.

 

“Why do you hate me so much?”

 

“Hate is a strong word.”

 

“Why do you dislike me?”

 

“Dislike is not strong enough of a word.”

 

“Why are you like this?”

 

“Because I’m very particular about doing things alone and quite frankly, you are an eyesore.”

 

“A-“

 

“And I know you’re going to ask me why I have such a strong insecurity about Makoto, and it’s because of reasons I’m not going to divulge to you other than the fact that being in love with her is very destabilizing.”

 

“That… doesn’t sound good. And also, I wasn’t going to ask that. I was going to ask, is that guy… usually here?”

 

Akechi felt his heart stop and turned around, ready to be confronted by the entire police department or some demon. When there was no one there, he turned back quickly to Akira, seconds away from pulling out his gun to threaten him.

 

“Sorry,” he choked in half laughter, “Let’s get out of here.”

 

“Next time I see you, I will actually kill you.”

 

“No you won’t because the next time you see me, Makoto will be with you and she’ll make sure you don’t go to prison and leave her all alone.”

 

Akechi pondered the thoughtfulness of that statement, and then followed Akira out of the building as if he was the one who led him in.

 

———

 

Makoto was occupied in her thoughts per usual. She had turned her head to look out the window instead of briefing herself with the notes she had taken on the case like she had every morning the last month. Something was off, and Akechi was glad it would be over soon.

 

He touched the arm that had clasped over the window of the train as she looked at the blur of trees and houses blending together. She turned to look at him, pensive gaze immediately turning soft.

 

“Tired?” he asked quietly.

 

“Mmm. Always,” she admitted.

 

“We should’ve taken time off for today, like I proposed,” he told her, knowing very well that she’d never agree to it.

 

“I wish we did,” she sighed, “I’m starting to dread everyday going in. It’s just the case in particular.”

 

“I told you I’d look at it if you asked me to,” he smirked.

 

“Why? So you can tell me the investigation I’ve been trying to lead for the last month had an answer staring straight at me this entire time?” she snapped.

 

He frowned ever so slightly. He had looked at it, and to hear her say that her insecurity was that she was too incompetent to figure it out had wounded him. It was just as complex as she had made it out to be, and he was the detective here.

 

“Sorry,” she sighed, “I… I either need to get more sleep or… I don’t know. It’s catching up to me, I know. I’ll do better.”

 

Akechi reached for her hand and wondered for a moment how their roles had become switched. She really was the perfect partner when she wanted to be, and yet in her flaws, there was a diamond in the rough. In the times that he needed to be pushed, she was there. And here they were with roles reversed in some sort of harrowing way. He had always been the stubborn one, prideful and hellbent on being unbending. The patience he showed her was a testimony of the depth of his love. He knew that, and when this was all over, she’d know it too.

 

“You know I can handle it,” he teased.

 

Makoto let out a soft unbelievable laugh.

 

“My wrath? I don’t think so,” she said with a small smile.

 

“I have already.”

 

“We’re not going there because I know you’re going to turn this into some dirty joke.”

 

“You say some very strange things, is all I’m going to say,” he smiled, “It’s difficult not to comment.”

 

It was strange to see her initiating, but Makoto leaned forward and pressed an apologetic kiss to his lips, on the train in public no less.

 

“I’m sorry,” she lamented.

 

“Don’t be. We’ve all been there. I more than others. You’ll get through this.”

 

“What if I told you I wasn’t… entirely joking about the gift from earlier?” she asked meekly.

 

“... You really want me to call the manufacturer for Buchi?”

 

“No! About the case,” she said quiet and shy.

 

“And what of it?” he asked.

 

“... Would you help me solve it?” she asked in embarrassment.

 

“Of course.”

 

“B-but only… Not because I’m your girlfriend or… because you feel bad for me.”

 

“I’ll stay in the restroom all day solving it and then I’ll text you the details so you can announce the eureka moment to your team-“

 

“No, not like that,” she scoffed, “I mean… I want you on my team. If you have the time.”

 

“I have too much time.”

 

“I know. So. We could really use the help and I’m asking as your coworker.”

 

Akechi thought about her a coworker. She had admitted the rivalry that she felt blossoming in high school between them, and how one sided it had felt. He laughed when he heard it, much to her dismay, implicating that rivalry meant they were on different sides.

 

“So, not as a rival?” he asked jokingly.

 

Makoto turned and rolled her eyes effectively. He pulled her back in her reluctance and kissed her again for all to see.

 

“As partners,” he agreed.

 

———

 

“Oh, I hate you.”

 

Makoto hid her face when she walked down the length of the hall to her desk. The staff had come around and peeked over their own to see her reaction. She blushed horrendously, pressing her hands to her cheeks as she looked upon the state of the desk.

 

“I told you not to,” she yelped, turning to Akechi.

 

“You didn’t tell me nicely,” he shrugged, “You think I wouldn’t?”

 

“I thought I would’ve nipped it in the bud by asking you for help.”

 

“And allow me to pass up the opportunity to embarrass you with the boundlessness of my love for the rest of the day? What kind of masochist do you take me for?” he asked.

 

“The worst kind,” she groaned, hiding her face and then pressing herself against him as a shield.

 

“I love you like this,” he chuckled, “You know the only reason they have a field day is because of your reaction.”

 

“I know,” she cried, “You’re the worst.”

 

“If you knew the extent of how I got them to you, then you wouldn’t think that,” he laughed lowly, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Makoto.”

 

She uncovered part of her face to look up at him in discomfort.

 

“Do you like them?” he asked in a whisper.

 

“I don’t want to look at them,” she replied just as quietly.

 

“But you will.”

 

“Yes,” she agreed shyly.

 

“You’re the only thing that’s ever come close to wounding my hubris. Why would I pass up the opportunity to embarrass you with the aftermath of my defeated arrogance?” he asked with a smile.

 

“Because you love me,” she replied incredulously, “Also you’re still arrogant.”

 

“But, you love me for it, and I love you when you’re embarrassed. And it just so happens I’m the only person who can get you like this. What do I do?”

 

Makoto leaned in close, her breath touching his nose.

 

“Kiss me,” she suggested.

 

“Yes, my love,” he obeyed breathily.

 

It was quick and the spark between their lips was just a taste of what was to come that night. Makoto indulged in one more kiss before pulling away and walking to her desk. He followed and leaned against the wall of her space.

 

“I’m not getting you anything for White Day,” she said aimlessly, reaching out to feel the velvety petal of one of the roses.

 

“I don’t want you to,” he laughed lowly.

 

“You do, that’s why you say it like that,” she sneered.

 

“Perhaps,” he said with a soft smile.

 

Watching Makoto lean her face into her hand as she stared at the flowers was worth everything in between. The forced smiles the last month seemed to melt when her eyes met his and she looked at him with love.  



	2. White Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when the crown hangs heavy on either side

Makoto realized her mistake the day after Valentine's Day, staring dreamily at the flowers on her desk. Her fingers reached for one of the petals, wishing they might never wilt as nature intended so that she might be reminded of her lover's display of affection always. Something only seemed amiss innately, but further suspicions confirmed it later that day.

 

She had promised Haru she would pay her a visit at her new office sometime. It was the heiress' first attempt at taking over the Okumura business, but still an attempt nonetheless, and she was none other than flashy with the new building she had just moved the offices to. Ann had jumped on that offer almost instantly, never passing up any opportunity to visit Haru whenever she could, but the girl also knew how often the catered lunches with full dessert bars also accompanied those many visits. Futaba was less inclined until there was an image of the server room in shambles sent to the group chat. A trail of ellipses followed that image, and Haru jotted her down for the visit.

 

Makoto was harder to convince, and they all knew why. Not only was there less room to bribe her with (Akechi naturally gave her everything she wanted), the work schedule she had rarely allowed her such time to partake in extracurriculars. She felt bad for viewing it that way, but it was true. Outside of her work, much like her life as a student in high school and college, Makoto had very little room allotted to anything else. She finally relented when her friends begged her to pry time away from work on a lighter day and pay them a visit. It didn't help that Futaba and Ann worked flexible schedules, and required very little notice of when that meetup was. The ball was in Makoto's court, and naturally, she felt bad.

 

She frowned when her calendar notified her that the day she had promised was coming up. Like all things, fate seemed to dictate the day after Valentine's Day, and Makoto had been none the wiser about the holiday regardless. Needless to say, the timing made her reach for her phone to sympathetically cancel. There was just too much work, and even after she had garnered the help of Akechi for the case, there was still much left to do. Somewhere deep down, she was hoping they weren't planning to enlist his help also because he would've certainly agreed that she needed the day off.

 

Makoto tapped the messages icon, indicating one new message.

 

_A: I see you like the flowers._

 

She flushed. It had been so obvious that she had been staring at them all day on Valentine's Day. The day after also. Makoto smiled though, realizing his message had broken their streak in the lack of communication for the last few days. And she was starting to like seeing the counter of days they had gone without talking go up too. She sighed quietly to herself, all smiles.

 

_M: And if I do, what will you do about it?_

 

Really, Makoto, she wondered to herself, egging him on after he had been so sweet about helping you out with the case? Still, she couldn't help it.

 

_A: You're welcome to compliment me however you like. Though, your happiness is what matters._

_M: Such flattery. But, I really ought to get back to work._

 

_A: Would you be able to? Those flowers must prove to be a distraction._

 

_M: I'm very good at ignoring distractions._

 

She wouldn't have been very far off to guess that his string of messages would stop here. Still, her smile broadened when Makoto thought about the frown he must've been making in that moment. He knew she meant he was the distraction, albeit a very welcome one, if she had to admit.

 

_M: I'm going to see Haru's new office building today after work._

 

Text bubbles popped up almost instantly. Time seemed to slow to a halt as she watched them disappear and reappear. Makoto might never know if that meant he was erasing his messages or stopping to reconsider.

 

_A: Have fun._

 

She bit her lip and sighed to herself. It took her the longest time in their relationship to be able to read in between the lines. Based on her gathered data, he wasn't happy about her plans, but he wouldn't stop her from proceeding with them either. Makoto held her breath for a moment, feeling her heart throb ever so slightly at her next plan of action. They had been together for such a long time, and yet it still tugged at her heart to say the words no matter the context, and no matter the method.

 

_M: I love you._

 

He responded in similar fashion.

 

———

 

"Makoto!"

 

She hadn't seen her friends for so long, it was hard to distinguish whose voice it was. She wasn't surprised that she was the last one to arrive, heels pounding on the sidewalk as she ran towards them. The figure in the evening glow became more recognizable soon enough and Makoto put on the biggest smile she could, realizing it was much weaker than usual with how long the day had been.

 

"Long time no see," she said in a perky voice at the very least.

 

"Yeah! A bit later than usual for me but I always find time for sweets," Ann said with a giggle.

 

"Oh, Ann," Makoto sighed.

 

"What?! Don't say you missed me constantly raving about crepes," she scoffed lightly.

 

"I did," Makoto admitted, "Believe it or not."

 

"Hard for her to not gush about it. Shoulda seen the box of chocolates she bought for Ryuji yesterday and then ate all by herself," Futaba chimed in.

 

"He didn't want any!" she said defiantly.

 

"You... bought Ryuji chocolates for Valentine's Day?" Makoto asked, "What did he get you?"

 

"... Nothing?" Ann replied perplexed, "It would be kinda weird."

 

"Weird, huh," Makoto pondered, "Should we go? Haru's probably waiting, right?"

 

They both made faces at one another in realization and then nodded as if surprised. Makoto was hit with further wonder - had she been so far gone from the norms of society that timeliness was suddenly a construct from the adult world she had adopted? It was a high level thought, but she tucked it away when Futaba led the way through the clear glass doors in front of them.

 

The security out front bowed to them, most likely anticipating their arrival for Okumura Haru.

 

Like clockwork, Haru arrived through the metallic elevators and ran towards her friends.

 

"Hello everyone! Sorry, I'm late," Haru started chirpily.

 

"Late?" Ann asked.

 

"Oh. I hired an assistant recently and they told me when in doubt, always apologize for being late!" she told them.

 

"Uh... huh," Futaba noted, forgoing the opportunity to tell her otherwise, "Where's this server room? I wanna see it!"

 

"Upstairs," Haru laughed, "It's nice to see you too, Futaba."

 

Dressed daintily in a pink dress, Makoto almost felt the slightest bit of envy at the color. It was an indicator of the casual wear she and Sae missed out on given their careers. Still, it was nice to see her friend regardless.

 

"That's a pretty dress, Haru," Ann complimented, pressing the button to the elevator.

 

"I was going to say the same thing," Makoto muttered, "The color really suits you."

 

"O-Oh, no way," Haru blushed, "I thought it might have blended in with my hair too much. I'm glad you think otherwise."

 

Makoto nodded in recognition, eyeing the massive columns of buttons along the elevator wall.

 

“Which floor, Haru?” she asked.

 

“The highest one, thanks!”

 

“Woah, penthouse view?” Ann asked in awe.

 

“I just rented the entire building. Father always had plans to expand, so I thought I’d just take the opportunity to do it before I chicken out,” she explained.

 

“Not too shabby,” Futaba grinned.

 

The elevator made a agreeable noise when it arrived to the top floor, reveling in a small ring. It went without saying that it was everything they had expected of Haru. The open floor plans made the police station office feel like a prison, but Makoto felt like it was almost too lonely.

 

“I love it, Haru,” Ann said in a gasp, “You’re bringing all the employees over?”

 

“Yep!”

 

Makoto was hit with sudden realization when she eyed the bouquet by her desk.

 

“Are those for you, Haru?” Ann asked, beating her to it.

 

“Oh! No. My assistant’s actually. Her fiancée was out of town and they couldn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day together so she had them sent in from China. Pretty, aren’t they? We haven’t quite decided where her desk is going to be yet, so I told her she could leave them on mine,” Haru said.

 

“Ah, fiancée,” Ann said with a nod, “How do they decide how to celebrate?”

 

“Well… I’m sure they have a way. Sorta like a secret handshake!” Haru decided.

 

“Easy, it’s whoever’s on top-“

 

“Futaba!”

 

“Sorry… I get they’re both girls but, what are we differentiating?” Makoto asked finally, “I feel like I’m missing something here entirely.”

 

The girls looked at each other for a brief moment and then back to Makoto.

 

“You mean… Valentine’s Day and White Day?” Haru clarified.

 

“... Right. I-I never really… Goro got me flowers yesterday and-“

 

“Flowers?! Wait… Akechi got you a Valentine’s Day gift?” Ann asked in surprise.

 

“Yes,” Makoto rushed quietly, “Sorry, is that weird?”

 

“Yes! It defeats the whole purpose of the holiday!” Ann screeched.

 

“Makoto… it doesn’t matter that much but Valentine’s Day is usually reserved for men. They receive presents and White Day is when they get to make it up to their girlfriends! … Or boyfriends,” Haru told her.

 

“Why did no one tell me?!” Makoto cried quietly, “I never noticed these kinds of things in high school and… god, I feel like such a failure-“

 

“Don’t put it that way. Where does that leave a _hikikomori_ like me?” Futaba sneered.

 

“It’s just…” Makoto started softly, “He’s been doing this every year. And I’m only just noticing it now? I got this whole thing wrong.”

 

“Ugh, well there’s always next year! Cheer up, and you can one-up him when you do!” Ann told her.

 

“Next year… I don’t think you guys understand the meaning of _one-up_ until you’ve seen Goro,” Makoto replied in distraught, “He takes it to a whole new level.”

 

“Well…. why not try one-upping him on White Day?” Futaba shrugged.

 

Haru’s face brightened up at the thought.

 

“What did he get you for Valentine’s Day?” Haru asked slowly.

 

“... Flowers,” Makoto said, allowing the simplicity to roll off her tongue.

 

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Haru said quietly, “It’s just casual enough for him not to expect it. You need to do something huge on White Day.”

 

“I’m not flashy like him,” Makoto said in embarrassment.

 

“Don’t gotta be flashy just… something that would make all the gifts he’s ever given you pale in comparison!” Ann suggested, riled with ideas.

 

Makoto didn’t reply, and her friends watched in confusion as her cheeks turned pink. They slept together for the first time on the Valentine’s Day they celebrated together for the first year. A sudden rush of vivid memories flooded her mind, and she so desperately hoped her friends wouldn’t have harped on the obviousness of it.

 

“Uh oh…” Futaba started.

 

For their anniversary, he went out and bought her a diamond necklace. She scolded him for the purchase, admitting to not having worn jewelry in years after the strain of having to take everything off for aikido practice. _That_ ended with hickies along her neck, and Makoto stroking the necklace in front of a mirror in a daze.

 

“No….” Ann gasped.

 

Makoto flushed further thinking about the following year. A promise ring, which ended in a long talk about their relationship and aspirations in life. Where would he fit in hers, and if she had a place in his, and ending with him between her legs as she moaned his given name for the first time in that context.

 

“Makoto,” Haru snapped her out of it, “Any ideas?”

 

“I… I might have one. It won’t be meaningful but it might respond to the trend in presents for the last few years,” Makoto started off.

 

“Your face is red,” Futaba pointed out.

 

“You didn’t have to say that!” Makoto gasped, “And now that I think about it, I don’t think I can…”

 

“You’re thinking about lingerie aren’t you?” Ann teased.

 

Her lips pulled taut into the slightest pout. Makoto was too embarrassed to admit the truth, but there was nothing she could even think about giving Akechi that might combat what he had given her the past few years. All she could come up with were lame ideas. Fountain pens with special engravings, a new watch band, all the useful and functional things in between were all Makoto could think of.

 

“It’s all I have to offer,” Makoto said quietly.

 

“What?! If you’re saying all you can think of rewarding him with is your body then you’re more lame than I thought!” Futaba harped, “Especially after that diamond necklace!”

 

“Wait…”

 

Makoto touched the necklace’s silhouette under her shirt.

 

“How did you know this was from Goro?”

 

“Hard not to. Would _you_ buy yourself something that expensive? Some guy paid me good money to hack into the Cartier site early to preorder one for his wife when those came out. You’re wearing it under your shirt, but I know a thing or two about diamonds now to tell,” Futaba smirked.

 

Makoto pulled out the necklace, touching the rough edges of the single diamond on it.

 

“Don’t tell me how much it costed, I don’t wanna know,” Makoto sighed.

 

“I won’t,” Futaba perked, “...He loves you though, gotta admit that much.”

 

Makoto grew red at the notion, suddenly wondering what kind of overtime he had to spend in the office to buy her the damn thing. Even worse, Futaba mentioned hacking the site to place a simple preorder —what kind of hurdle did Akechi have to go through to get her something that special? Haru finally spoke up after moments of long silence.

 

“If it were up to me, I’d agree with the sentiment of memories. Akechi has always been the type to chase after whatever he wants with ease, so why not give him something out of left field?”

 

“Left field… lingerie,” Ann reminded.

 

“Ann’s right… it was what I was thinking,” Makoto said with a shaky voice.

 

“You guys can use it more than once. Economical,” Futaba joked.

 

“Starting to sound like Yusuke,” Ann poked at her.

 

“ _He’s_ starting to sound like me! Anyways, it’s not a bad idea,” Futaba continued, “If he’s into that stuff.”

 

Makoto didn’t want to say anything in response to that. It went without saying given the moment of silence that followed, and the tiniest noise of discomfort from Futaba’s direction.

 

“It just doesn’t seem like you, Makoto,” Haru admitted, “Maybe get a glance at his phone and see if he’s been eyeing anything in particular and pick it up fast!”

 

“He’s not the type to think too long on something. Especially if it’s something he wants,” Makoto said, her hand to her chin as she pondered, “Material items are just that to Goro, and he so very rarely wants anything.”

 

“New tie,” Ann chimed.

 

“A non-ugly attaché case,” Futaba joined in.

 

“It’s not ugly-“

 

“Only Akechi’s girlfriend would say that,” Futaba said with a dark chuckle, “New haircut.”

 

Makoto sighed.

 

“I’ll rent a yacht and-“

 

“No!” A cry of unison.

 

“... Lingerie,” Makoto thought again, “It could work out in a non-shallow way, right?”

 

“We’re getting really intimate here but… how often do you initiate?” Ann asked bravely, “Actually, don’t answer that. Can we get some food first? I’m starving thinking about those edible panties I saw in one of the displays in Akiba-“

 

“Ann…” Makoto said weakly.

 

“Same, though,” Futaba agreed, “On the food sentiment, not the panties.”

 

Haru was more than happy to usher them to the restaurant on the second level of the building. Makoto found herself staring at the columns of buttons again as they descended down the elevator.

 

The topic had completely changed when they were seated at the restaurant. Fully staffed with not a single guest, Makoto felt almost a bit sick that her mind couldn’t have been riddled with thoughtful ideas of what to get Akechi in return, but even worse was that she hadn’t even recognized the holiday was her chance to show him that she loved him. Even _worse_ he had taken all those opportunities to relay gifts to her instead. Even as she tried her best to pick at the fish in front of her, Makoto had lost her appetite to her thoughts.

 

“Makoto, it’s okay,” Haru finally said in a gentle voice, “It’s just a holiday.”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to look occupied,” she muttered apologetically.

 

“Hey, the upside is that you’ve got an entire month to think about what to get him. Besides, the lingerie thing was just a joke, okay?” Ann soothed.

 

“I was thinking about what you said, actually,” Makoto said shyly, “I hate to admit it but… I calculated all the times that we… I never initiate.”

 

“Unsurprising,” Futaba said with a nod.

 

“Hey-“

 

“And that’s okay-“ Haru tried to cut her off.

 

“I’m. A terrible girlfriend. I’ll be the first to admit that. This White Day present needs to be thoughtful, generous and one of a kind,” Makoto said firmly, “But if this was Goro, he’d think of something in that realm so fast and I can’t come up with a single thing!”

 

“Akechi Goro. Connoisseur of thoughtfulness. Who would’ve guessed?” Futaba whistled.

 

“Like Ann said, you have time,” Haru reminded her, “I feel like it’ll come to you if you spend some time with him.”

 

“That’s easier said than done,” Makoto said sheepishly, “I can't remember the last time we went on a date together because of how swamped work has been. I even swallowed my pride and asked him to help me out with a case.”

 

“Woah… that busy?” Ann asked worriedly, “You gotta get time on your side then. Ryuji and I set aside Saturdays at the very least to do something together. And if one of us breaks the rules, that person buys the other one dinner. Pretty good, huh? I haven’t lost once.”

 

“I wish it were that easy,” Makoto said uneasily, “Just thinking about spending time together is making my stomach turn like when we first started dating. We might as well still be strangers sometimes.”

 

“You gotta stop thinking like that,” Futaba scolded her, “No wonder you can’t come up with something. You’re letting him one-up you!”

 

“... I can see what she’s saying,” Haru agreed.

 

“Letting him one-up me…” she wondered.

 

“Okay, so for White Day I can almost guess that Ryuji will get me something sweet. He just knows me very well, and he knows I’d enjoy it more than anything. That’s not to say I wouldn’t enjoy shopping, but it’s the easiest way to my heart, ya know? I don’t think it’s less than thoughtful whatever he gets me because it’s from him! Think about it that way,” Ann suggested.

 

“Yusuke and I are too broke. Don’t ask us,” Futaba said flatly.

 

Makoto let out the smallest laugh.

 

“I did take time off for you guys,” Makoto agreed.

 

“8pm? That’s time off? Can you please get a regular work schedule?!” Ann nearly screamed.

 

“That is normal-“

 

“For Valentine’s Day, I visited Akira at the flower shop. The one downstairs in Shibuya,” Haru said with a blush.

 

“Wait, wait, wait. _That’s_ where he’s been working at?! Geez…” Futaba sighed, “Sojiro’s been bugging him about taking over for the summer so he can get some traveling in and Akira’s been avoiding giving him an answer.”

 

“That’s _so_ unlike him,” Ann scoffed, “But… I wouldn’t want to either.”

 

“He’s probably thinking about it,” Haru said slowly, “I… I kind of asked him to come with me to America to look at new locations for Okumura Foods’ factories.”

 

“What?! Let me come!” Futaba cried.

 

“It’s not as great as you’d think, Futaba,” Ann told her.

 

“Then that would mean… what did you give him for Valentine’s Day, Haru?” Makoto asked curiously.

 

“Huh? Oh… he was actually too busy working for me to properly give it to him. So I just didn’t worry about it,” she said.

 

“... It was a kiss, wasn’t it?” Futaba asked lowly.

 

“...”

 

“Why is everyone here so obvious?!” she cried, grabbing her head in distraught.

 

“Aaaaanyways. Still a cute attempt,” Ann said with a smile, hand to her cheek.

 

“And it was thoughtful,” Makoto pointed out.

 

“Thank you,” Haru said in embarrassment, pushing up her curls as she often did in nervousness, “It was nice when he had his break. We just strolled around the crowded areas of the underground mall. I tried a bunch of foods I would’ve never considered… it didn’t have to be anything special, but it was. Being with someone you like no matter what you’re doing is all it takes for it to be special.”

 

Makoto felt her phone buzz in that moment, breaking her out of her trance over Haru’s flowery words. As they continued gushing over their shared stories, Makoto glanced at her phone.

 

_A: I miss you._

 

He was stuck at work, she grimaced. It was obvious.

 

“I think I know what I’m going to do,” Makoto said finally with a smile.

 

———

 

_It’s White Day, and I want you to come home early tonight._

 

It should’ve been simple, really. But it being her first time, Makoto really didn’t have any means of doing anything simple. She watched Akechi grab the cup of coffee she had made, not even glancing down at the swirled heart she had taken two hours to learn to make the night before. He kissed her on the cheek in a rush before stepping out before she did. Makoto couldn’t do anything except nod. Maybe he’d notice the bento she made and slipped into his case for lunch, and he’d text her about it then.

 

“I’ll see you tonight, hopefully. I was pulled into an unexpected meeting yesterday after everyone had left and they ended up going out for drinks. Hopefully it won’t be the same for tonight,” he told her.

 

“Work is important,” she said slowly.

 

The simple disagreement would’ve usually ensued, but he was in a hurry. He kissed her again, this time along her lips, taking his time in the slowest rubato, and then Akechi was gone.

 

She granted him knowledge of her day off, but he didn’t question it. Makoto pulled out the heavy recipe book from under her nightstand and heaved it into the kitchen. Blue bookmarks indicated the recipes she had scoured in the thirty minute spans of her train rides home alone for the last month, but she finally honed it down to a full course meal for that evening. All along, she prayed to a nameless god that he would make it home in time to see the surprise. Please make it so, she begged.

 

_H: Need help?_

 

_A: Same here. I’m relaxing today so just let me know!_

 

_M: Thank you, but I think I got it handled. I just need to time it perfectly._

 

_F: I’m moral support. Far moral support._

 

Makoto had nearly memorized the menu. But she knew for certain chocolate covered strawberries with whipped cream made it on the list for dessert. It was simple and easy to finish off with, and it gave her time to focus on the main course. She didn’t necessarily have the biggest sweet tooth, but she brought home both a red wine and a dessert wine and left it in plain boxes in the fridge that deterred Akechi away from them. Everything else would be simple, she decided.

 

Makoto didn’t look at the prices for the first time when she went grocery shopping. It took every ounce of her being to pick up the lobster and place it in the shopping cart. It was one night, and he deserved it. She’d try her hand at lobster bisque with a dash of brandy. It was light enough to work as an appetizer, the recipe noted. Makoto allowed herself the liberty of counting the calories up at the very least.

 

She picked up the most appetizing cut of prime rib and placed it in the cart. Vegetables and everything in between were already stocked at home, but she did her best also to avert her eyes from the price. It would be heavy, but not too heavy, and that’s what dessert would help to lighten at the very least, the book told her.

 

Makoto found herself stopped at the section for dessert. Even after deciding on strawberries, she noticed all the men piled near the cakes and tarts pondering which ones were best for their girlfriends. She felt a jolt of fear, remembering back to the once or _twice_ she had perused Akechi’s food posts for _research_ back in university. The data told her he loved sweets, or his persona definitely did. The cakes were being picked up left and right, and before she knew it, a small selection was left. She squinted at the cakes, eyes wandering to the ingredients and she decided she’d attempt to bake one from scratch.

 

She had time. It was only noon.

 

———

 

_A: I’m off early. Let’s do something together._

 

The text left Makoto in a state of panic. What she had believed to be 3 hours left to prepare soon turned into less than 1. Strawberries half cut, and the prime rib in the oven, she wouldn’t necessarily say she had even considered the setting for the table.

 

_M: Guys. He’s coming home early._

 

_F: yikes!_

 

_A: oh god, do you need help?_

 

_M: I don’t KNOW nothing is ready_

 

_H: wait, I’m in the area_

 

_M: PLEASE_

 

In 7 minutes, the doorbell buzzed and Makoto raced to the door to answer it. Only when she reached to unlock it did she realize she should’ve checked to see if it was for certain Haru. Luckily, it was.

 

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” Haru asked quickly.

 

“I… Just cut the strawberries. I need to prepare a few other things and I’ll give you more to do along the way,” Makoto rushed.

 

“Got it.”

 

Makoto breathed a sigh of relief when she glanced over at Haru’s handiwork. She had picked up some skills in between high school and now, at the very least. She took everything else slow and steady to match the incisions that Makoto had made, but with her help, everything was at least out and cooling down.

 

“Oh god. I need frosting for the cake,” Makoto cried.

 

“You didn’t buy one?!”

 

“No! I… Okay, just help me set the table. Uncork the wines. I need to find glasses-“

 

“I can try to find them. Just worry about the frosting,” Haru told her.

 

“Okay… okay.”

 

Makoto’s phone buzzed and she nearly had a heart attack.

 

_A: Don’t want to do something together?_

 

She let out the softest whimper. She didn’t have time to harness a reply worthy of telling him that there was a surprise underway.

 

“Haru… Haru, can you do this? I don’t know how to answer right now,” Makoto said, handing her the phone, “Just keep him at bay and make sure he comes home.”

 

Haru nodded, one hand on her phone and the other reaching for the glasses on the shelf.

 

“‘I do, but can you come home first?’ How does that sound?” Haru called from the other room.

 

“Fine! I need to put the cake in the fridge otherwise it’ll just melt the frosting. How’s the table coming?” she asked.

 

“Uhh… Akechi said ‘I was thinking of putting in dinner reservations somewhere.’”

 

“Oh… hell. Be adamant about him coming home,” Makoto said through gritted teeth.

 

She plated the main course out on the table, and then lined the two bowls of soup. The strawberries came next and she frantically poured the melted chocolate into a small bowl.

 

“What did he say?” Makoto asked, peeking over Haru’s shoulder.

 

“I think… he’s almost home. But he’s being really vague right now,” Haru said slowly.

 

“Oh, god. He just got out of the station. We need to get you out of here. 7 minutes,” Makoto said hurriedly.

 

“Wait… is that-“

 

The door began to unlock. Makoto and Haru looked up at each other with wide eyes and then to the back door.

 

“I’m going,” she whispered.

 

“No-!”

 

“Makoto?”

 

“H-honey, hold on-!”

 

Makoto turned to Haru quickly.

 

“The cake! I’m going to keep him distracted. The frosting’s already on just… take it out and set it on the table,” she said in a hoarse voice.

 

Haru raced to the kitchen and watched Makoto circle around to the entrance. Akechi raised a brow at her flushed face, bangs in a disarray and apron still on.

 

“Early dinner?” he asked with a small smile, eyeing the apron.

 

“S-sort of,” she responded breathlessly, and grabbed his face before he could glance at anything else, “I missed you.”

 

“Was this the reason you needed me home so badly?” he mused, “I missed you too.”

 

She allowed him to kiss her, swiping her tongue along his lip carefully and slowly.

 

“Mmm, you taste good,” he murmured against her lips, “What have you been up to?”

 

“Nothing much,” she lied heatedly, “So about dinner.”

 

There was the slightest ruffle from the kitchen and Akechi began to turn his head away from her. Makoto squeezed her eyes for a moment before pulling on his jaw so that he could stare into her eyes.

 

“I was thinking… wouldn’t you like to taste me first?” she asked lowly, desperation easily conveyed.

 

Deep down, she was begging to that nameless god that Haru didn’t hear.

 

“Makoto,” he murmured breathlessly, his fingers already reaching for the ties on the back of her apron, “You really ought to think about your words sometimes.”

 

“What?” she asked in shock, “I mean it. You’re not telling me that you don’t believe me.”

 

“Simply surprised,” he mused, “I’d be more than inclined to take you up on your offer.”

 

Her apron fell to the floor quickly, and Akechi’s lips claimed hers without delay. Makoto let out the lowest moan when he began to lead her into the kitchen. Her only response was to shove him up against the door he had just entered.

 

“I want to lead,” she said, playing it by ear.

 

His mahogany eyes nearly dilated at her remark, and he let her do as she pleased. She dipped her fingers along the front of his pants and then up his prim and proper and blazer. It came off quickly with the tug of a few buttons. Akechi made an attempt to at least match her excitement, reaching underneath her baggy shirt, and was delighted to find she wasn’t wearing a bra.

 

“All of this for me?” he asked in wonder, lips curling into the smallest grin.

 

“Who else?” she asked in a high voice, “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

 

She screamed internally, hoping Haru was finishing soon and wasn’t listening in to her words.

 

“Never,” he answered, fingers outlining the frame of her back, “Just very, very surprised. How will you have me?”

 

Makoto groaned quietly at his question, recognizing it as the one that always seemed to tear him at the seams and cancel any intentions of him prolonging their playful teasing. But she was different. She needed him in the bedroom for this next part. No way in hell was she going to allow Haru to hear this. Akechi sat on the edge of the bed in anticipation, sliding back ever so slightly when she planted her knee in between his legs. The bed pressed downwards from her weight and Akechi placed his hands on her hips, sliding them up her shirt or over her clothed rear.

 

“I’ll have you begging,” she said, repeating phrases she must have heard elsewhere, but in her panic, they ruptured so easily.

 

“That can be arranged,” he murmured quietly, “Can I undress you?”

“No,” she said, “I’ll do that for you.”

 

Makoto reached for the top button first, and then pushed him down onto the bed. The rest of her ministrations were slow and backed by her secret purpose, and knowing her intentions made Akechi that much less inclined to do something about it made her breath hitch.

 

“You’re up to something,” he said breathily when she reached the final button of his shirt and ran her hand down his chest.

 

“Where is your evidence, detective?” she cooed.

 

“Call it intuition,” he chuckled, “You’re never like this.”

 

“And it’s never too late to learn something new about me,” she said, gasping in awe when her hands traced to his pants next and brushed against that obvious display, “Are you interested, or would you rather we stop?”

 

He couldn’t answer when her hands were pulling at his zipper and palming his member, but somehow this didn’t seem right. Suddenly though, none of that matter because Makoto dipped her body down his chest and she laid the flat of her tongue over top of his clothed member, the only thing distancing her from touching him a thin pair of boxers.

 

“Wh-What are you planning…?” He asked in a hopeful tone.

 

“Surprise,” she said airily.

 

It was a sensation he had never felt before, and he was so eager to find out more. But she pulled at the edge of his boxers and he forced her to stop.

 

“Wh-what’s wrong?” she asked in hidden panic.

 

“Let’s do this a bit later,” he offered, “Not that I’m not enjoying it.”

 

“Then what is it?” she pushed.

 

He smiled at her weakly and pulled her down to kiss her, his member throbbing painfully against her hip.

 

“You don’t have to hide it anymore, Makoto. Dinner first, and I’ll have you for dessert later,” he promised, voice heavy against her ear.

 

She relented and allowed him to zip up his pants. He replaced his dress shirt and tie with a v neck from the dresser. Makoto said nothing when he grabbed her hand and she led him to the dining room. She breathed a sigh of relief to find Haru had gone, back door albeit unlocked, but everything was where she envisioned it would be.

 

“Happy White Day,” she murmured shyly, afraid to look at him.

 

“All this for me?” he teased again.

 

“You’re really the worst,” she whined, hiding herself away from him, only to be met with his arms around her.

 

“It’s nothing I would have imagined, and I love it,” he said with the softest laugh.

 

Haru really went the final step and found some candles and lit them. Makoto thought the red napkins were always a bit much, but in this lighting, it really looked magnificent. Best of all, the cake was the centerpiece and the frosting was not amiss. She could stop sweating bullets finally.

 

“Let’s eat, I’m eager to try everything,” he told her.

 

She led him to his side of the table and then resumed her own. Makoto watched in anticipation as he tried her food. It wasn’t the first time she had cooked for him, but she soon realized that they were times very few and far between. He wasn’t particularly showy with his expressions, but he did so when he ate her food.

 

“It’s delicious,” he said quietly.

 

“Thank you,” she said with the slightest exhale, glad he didn’t press for any more questions.

 

“Your gesture has been noted,” he said, all smiles.

 

“Are you surprised, just like earlier?” she asked the last part lowly.

 

“Yes,” he responded just as lowly, “Pleasantly surprised. Compliments to the chef.”

 

She flushed at the phrase. She was hardly one.

 

“I ought to have taken a picture and revitalized my food blog,” he joked.

 

“Please don’t,” she scoffed, “Let it die in peace.”

 

“Familiar with it? I had that all throughout college and we weren’t dating until after then,” he prodded.

 

“I saw it once or twice in passing,” she mused.

 

“My ego would be otherwise stroked if you admitted that you had intentions of finding me,” he suggested.

 

“And I’d note you’re always looking for your ego to be stroked,” she said with a happy sigh.

 

“Indeed I am,” he admitted, “I’ll forgo it just this once.”

 

They ate the rest of dinner in more or less silence. He’d compliment her food here and there, but Makoto took it as his attempt to enjoy it as much as possible rather than to talk over it. She jumped up to grab a knife to slice the cake before he could ask to do so, and served it onto a small dessert plate. The dessert wine followed, but the sudden recognition of wine reminded her that she just had two glasses of the red and she wasn’t particularly ready for more.

 

“Do you remember this one?” he asked in a secretive smile, touching the label of the wine before she took it away, “I got it at the bar in Kyoto when they forced me to go out one evening.”

 

“I remember. It was a case in Kyoto,” she nodded.

 

“I tried it once and I knew you’d like it,” he said.

 

“How surprising. I don’t have a sweet tooth enough to have anything to try it with,” she said airily.

 

“Rather, I knew it would come in handy someday,” he changed his statement.

 

He swirled his glass and tasted it along with one bite of her cake. He made the strangest face.

 

“Bad wine or bad cake?” she asked.

 

“Neither, I was just recalling the times I cooked myself a meal or someone else had done so for me. I honestly cannot remember,” he said quietly.

 

“Then don’t try to. Painful memories exist only in the past and wait in hiding to be remembered,” she comforted.

 

“How very poetic and right you are,” he said agreeably, “Then it’s a promise to make more memories together? Better ones?”

 

“Like this one?” she asked with a shy smile.

 

He pulled her hand to his cheek and then pressed his lips to her hand.

 

“Exactly like this one,” he agreed.

 

Dinner finished without further remarks, and Akechi’s heart was full. He took the time to digest and washed the dishes, to which Makoto was grateful for. She realized they never cooked for her to witness such an action, but there was something particularly erotic about Akechi doing chores as she relaxed with her wine. She flushed at the idea of him in an apron.

 

How lame they were, she thought, to be enveloped by something so simple when it was the norm for other couples all the time. She really thought about the distance between them at times because of work. Would they have more to say if it weren’t for it? Thoughts like these entered her mind and transformed hazily with each sip of wine. She hadn’t even noticed that Akechi was finished until she missed the sound of water running. Her eyes watched him grab a cloth to dry his hands, and then raise the apron from over his head. Why were small actions like that such a turn on all of a sudden, she mused. She watched his arm muscles ripple as he returned the plates to their original places and then wiped down the table.

 

Any more of this domestic eroticism, and she really was going to lose it. Luckily for her, he dimmed the lights soon enough and retired onto the couch with her, a plate in hand.

 

“You forgot these,” he mentioned with a smile.

 

“Oh! Strawberries.”

 

He took one and dipped it in the chocolate before tasting it.

 

“Predictable and in a good way. I’m not sure my heart can take any more surprises,” he said with light laughter.

 

“N-no more, huh?”

 

“It’s an expression. Is there more?” he mused.

 

“There can be,” she said secretly.

 

“Then I retract my statement. I want to bear witness to your full efforts,” he told her.

 

“It’s not really a good surprise. I feel it’s a bit lackluster,” she said quietly.

 

“Nothing you put effort into is lackluster,” he pressed.

 

“All of this is just a ploy to get me to reveal it,” she teased.

 

“Given the lovely evening thus far, I’d be a happy man to go straight to bed with you now if that’s where the night is to go. But I’d hate to see your efforts wasted simply because you’re too shy to show me,” he told her.

 

“Nothing wrong with being shy,” she said, strawberry and wine in hand.

 

“And you have liquid courage,” he noted, “All of that and you’re still shy about it, hm? I’m really curious now.”

 

Makoto put her wine glass down, finished and done with. Her eyes glossed over his face for a moment and he held the strawberry close to his mouth. When she came closer and took the liberty of biting down on it, he let her. She lapped the whip cream and chocolate from his hands, her eyes never leaving his to prove how far her shyness went. His pants tightened just from looking at her, and then even further when she sucked the juices from his fingers.

 

“More?” she asked lowly.

 

“Yes,” he breathed.

 

She reached for another piece of fruit and fed him this time. He mimicked her expression albeit not as erotic, and then allowed her hand to fall into place over his thigh.

 

“You’d really like to know?” she asked quietly.

 

“It’s only killing me slowly,” he moaned lightly.

 

“I’d like to see the result of that,” she mused.

 

“My inevitable death because of your teasing?” he sneered.

 

“Oh, then you really won’t like what I have planned,” she continued.

 

“I’m sure I will,” he pushed, “I’ll admit that dinner was more along the veins of what you’re capable of, but now I’m completely at a loss for what else you might have planned.”

 

“Not even a single idea?”

 

“Not one, my love,” he told her, “Call it intuition, but I know when I’m willfully suspending my disbelief and when I’m not. I’m going in blind here.”

 

She reached for a plain white bag on the side of the couch and held it between her hands briefly. Akechi swallowed and she handed it to him.

 

“I can’t accept this,” he said quietly.

 

“And why not? You’ve given me plenty of gifts in the past,” she said cheerfully.

 

“I don’t deserve it.”

 

“Yes, you do,” she smirked.

 

“I’m not opening it,” he declined.

Makoto frowned. His eyes showed his fear suddenly, and she wasn’t able to understand or gauge what it was.

 

“You shower me with gifts all the time, I don’t know why one from me is so strange of an idea,” she said with the smallest voice.

 

“I just… I’m not used to it. Gestures are fine but… items stay materialized. What am I to do if you leave me?”

 

“I’d gladly take it back,” she offered.

 

“You don’t understand, Makoto. I’d like for you to never leave me, but the action of returning your gifts just to unburden myself of the pain is just another gesture of such,” he explained.

 

“So you won’t open it?” she asked plainly.

 

“Makoto… I can’t.”

 

“I really think you ought to look at it the very least,” she pressed.

 

“... Why are you so adamant about this?” he wondered.

 

“Call it an intuition,” she mused, “but I think you’d like it.”

 

“It’s not a matter of liking it or not,” he frowned.

 

She didn’t reply and simply cradled the bag in her hand, unwavering. It only made matters worse that he couldn’t gauge where it was from. He ignored her for a bit, finishing up the last bits of his wine and another strawberry. Makoto hummed lightly to announce she wasn’t going anywhere and he finally sighed.

 

He drank the last sip of her wine too before taking the bag from her. She clasped her hands together both in nervousness and excitement. He reluctantly peeked inside.

 

He saw the lace first, and then the sheer black suddenly made sense. Another perplexed look, and he knew all he had to know before handing it back to her. Makoto accepted it gladly.

 

“Put it on,” he said lowly.

 

“I thought you didn’t like gifts,” she mused innocently.

 

“I don’t. I’ll make an exception,” he said firmly.

 

Akechi could breathe again when she left the room to get changed. Any more idling around and he might have really lost it. He used the time it took to pour himself a glass of red wine and awaited her return. There was not an ounce of shyness when Makoto walked out. Somewhere in between, she had grabbed a pair of her heels to go along with the outfit and he watched her with pensive and subdued eyes when she walked out of the hall.

 

The bodice hugged her in all the right places, but the sheer that he had saw in the bag draped down her stomach in a tasteful way that only begged for more reveal than not. Even after their dinner, her stomach was flat from the years of aikido most likely, and his eyes trailed down to the pair of lace panties she wore. Ribbons adorned it unnecessarily, and only when she walked towards him again did Akechi realize the ribbons hugged those hips he loved so much in a tantalizing way.

 

She hovered above him, and removed the glass from his lips so that he might entertain her with his reactions.

 

“You know that’s coming right off,” he told her.

 

“Or it can stay and you can spend the rest of the night behaving,” she said lightly.

 

“Trying to behave,” he reminded her, “But to no avail, I assure you.”

 

He reached for her wrist and pressed the last gentle kiss he had in mind on the skin there. Next thing she knew, she was being pulled into his lap.

 

“You really outdid yourself this time, Makoto,” he said breathily, “You’re going to make me crave this everyday going forward.”

 

Makoto held her breath when his fingers touched the ribbons on her hips, confirming his theory that they wrapped all along her backside as well.

 

“You’re killing me,” he sighed desperately, hands growing impatient and greedy with the way he gripped at her, “I want you so badly.”

 

“I’m yours, am I not?” she teased, her lips trailing up his jaw.

 

“You certainly will be now if you weren’t previously,” he growled lightly, “I want you in bed.”

 

Makoto answered his request by doing so. He groaned at her willfulness all of a sudden. Not only was she granting him a display of her submissiveness, what was that exactly earlier that she showed him? He grew aware of all the secrets that lay in that brain of hers. He followed closely behind her and watched her get on all fours and crawl to the center of the bed.

Akechi wished he could’ve stared at her this way forever, but there would be hell if he neglected his throbbing cock any longer.

 

“How can I have you?” he asked for permission.

 

“Do you want a literal or metaphoric answer?” she asked playfully, her legs running along the side of him as he crawled on top of her.

 

He didn’t answer and just dipped his face into the side of her waist. He made it known that his ministrations would be slow, albeit unsteady. Makoto felt the wetness of his lips through the sheer fabric and his fingers tugging gently at the panties. When he finished idolizing her from the front, she twisted onto her side with one leg over the other, allowing Akechi permission to touch her further. He did so by slipping her panties down.

 

“It’s taking every fiber of my being not to rip you apart,” he said shakily, “Can you tell?”

 

“Mhmm,” she hummed agreeably.

 

“Good. Then you know there’s no more room for teasing,” he said lowly, “Or there will be consequences.”

 

“Nothing good, I hope,” she mused.

 

“It wouldn’t be painless,” he said lightly, hand running over her rear as a hint.

 

Makoto moaned softly when he dipped his hands under the sheer bodice, and without delay, his lips found the sweet spot of her neck and he sucked hard. Her moan raised, and as much as she wanted to think about how much cover up she’d wear tomorrow, she couldn’t with the way he was kissing her neck. He growled softly at any given time, claiming her lips heatedly to calm himself. Akechi couldn’t keep his hands off of her no matter what, and it was obvious. If it wasn’t tangled in her hair so that he might claim her swollen lips, they were tugging at the front of her cleavage and revealing the perks of her nipples above the black bust.

 

“Tell me you’re ready for me,” he whispered against her chest, his handiwork of light bruises in the making, “Tell me you want me just as bad as I do you.”

 

Makoto was quiet for a moment, and then his hand flew to her bottom for a proper slap. She let out the most indignant gasp, mouth agape. She whimpered slightly when he gave her another, unwilling to admit that the friction was making her wetter by the second. But she didn’t have to, he read it in the blush along her face and then again when he ran his fingers up her revealed fold.

 

“Your lack of response betrays you,” he muttered against her shoulder, “You’re so wet, and I can feel it.”

 

“I never denied it, just simply opted out from answering,” she said with the smallest laugh.

 

“Then you won’t deny me my right to have you? It is White Day after all, hm?” Akechi reminded her.

 

“If you will accept me as your gift, then you can take me however you wish,” she told him.

 

“Worry not, I plan to have my fill of you and more,” he groaned, his fingers seeking entry to her body, “Forgive me, I can only indulge in this for so long. God, I’m being torn apart as we speak.”

 

“Something only to be sated by being buried inside of me, I presume,” Makoto suggested.

 

“I wouldn’t put it so _vulgarly,”_ he teased.

 

“Not into lasciviousness, hm?” she mused.

 

“Oh, but I am,” he moaned quietly, “It’s just always jarring to see someone so proper say it so indecently.”

 

“And how would you put it?” she asked, sighing when he pressed the reveal of his cock against her rear.

 

“I’m going to make love to you, fuck you, and everything in between. Seeing as you are my gift, I’m going to use you until I pass out.”

 

“How salacious. I suppose I’m not one to deny it if I’m so turned on as you claim I am,” she prodded, “You won’t keep me waiting?”

 

“No.”

 

He lost interest in banter when his cock throbbed once. As if clockwork, Makoto’s body responded in kind, throbbing against the pads of his fingers and he quickly dipped them inside. There was no denying the build up from earlier, and it only left Akechi reeling and fraying at the seams as he waited impatiently for more.

 

“God, more. I need more,” he moaned, fingers leaving and reaching for her mouth.

 

Watching Makoto accept the gesture so openly made him gasp lightly. She sucked in his fingers to taste herself without hesitation, eyes never leaving his for a moment. Within moments he was prodding her entrance with his member, kissing her swollen lips and then again down her neck, shoulder and arm.

 

He made no more preparations and entered her with ease. Makoto let out a small cry, adjusting to his size even with her cunt fully prepared for him. Akechi sheathed himself inside and reached for wherever flesh he could. She placated that needy and dominant side of him by flashing the side of her neck. He reached for it in a daze and wrapped his hand around it in a fit of passion, thrusting in and out of her. Makoto grit her teeth at the friction, moaning softly whenever he hit her sensitively.

 

“You feel perfect,” he said in a broken voice, “Made for me.”

 

“A-ah, must you be so egotistical?” she cried.

 

“Yes. I must,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

 

She loved it when that gentleman and pleasant persona faded. Makoto wasn’t picky about what it was repackaged as, but that vulgar and uninhibited side of him always made her eyes roll to the back of her head.

 

Akechi pulled out and then watched Makoto whimper at the loss of friction.

 

“Finish what you started earlier,” he begged softly, “Please. I need it.”

 

“Need to be dominated in turn?” she riled, “I suppose I’ll entertain the request on your special day.”

 

“Hell,” he chuckled, “I try to be romantic last month and you’ve all but tainted the gesture for years to come. I’ll be fantasizing about this all year long.”

 

“Doesn’t have to be just today,” she cooed, straddling him for a moment and sliding her wetness along his cock.

 

He winced at the uncalled for friction, and threw his head back.

 

“I can leave you breathless like this anytime,” she continued.

 

“Where did you learn phrases like that?” he growled in need.

 

“Mmm. Here and there. You wouldn’t believe me if I said otherwise, do you hate it?” she murmured.

 

“No. I simply hope for the validity of them because _hell,_ I’m in pain just waiting for you,” he said with a soft moan.

 

Makoto answered by raising her body up and sliding herself on top of him again. He growled at her reaction - a heated sigh as she sheared him inside of her. She rolled her hips and then back and forth as his tip hit her over and over again. He flung his hands in desperation to grab her hips and quickened the friction. It was all too much to bear, and seeing Makoto on top for the first time like that left him in a daze of lust.

 

“L-like that,” he prodded, “Exactly like that. God.”

 

He took over for the last few thrusts, unable to sustain her riding him that way. Makoto leaned down to kiss him, her tongue gentle even in their final moments before release. The soft kisses in between their gasps for breath didn’t match the way he pounded into her, but that imbalance could only describe his love and lust for her. In his mind, he was making love to her, and his body reacted in the same vein albeit to another level of need.

 

“Mmmmhm,” she whimpered agreeably, “Will you… Goro...”

 

“Yes,” he hissed, “I can’t much... longer.”

 

His notion of notifying her was to slam into her one last thrust, igniting a loud moan from her throat as he finished inside of her. His voice broke out into muffled groans and gasps, flipping her onto her back quickly so that she could hold every last drop of him. Akechi fell on top of her, moaning quietly as his body trembled in the aftermath of placidity.

 

“Makoto,” he remarked quietly and in a tired voice, “That was…”

 

“Hardly,” she squeaked before he could flatter her further.

 

“Exquisite, remarkable… different. You’re too good.”

 

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

 

“There’s evidence to show that you are,” he murmured against her neck, lips to her skin whenever he could, “Also you taste like strawberries.”

 

“Mmm. Wonder why,” she mused, “I’m going to be sore tomorrow.”

 

“As will I,” he admitted, “I need more in the morning, and after that as well.”

 

“It’s too bad you have work,” she reminded him.

 

“I took tomorrow off,” he said, lips curling upward against her ear, “And I extended the liberty to you as well.”

 

“Goro! I already took today off-“

 

“Your prerogative. I requested the day off for the both of us for belated festivities,” he told her.

 

“... So shagging all day,” she said plainly.

 

“You’re not against it,” he chuckled.

 

“I am. You were supposed to-“

 

“Help you with the case, I know.”

 

She waited for an explanation.

 

“Surprise.”

 

“... You figured it out.”

 

“Not so much figuring, more like ramping up hours spent on it. But it’s done, and we both get a well deserved break leading into the weekend. Kyoto sounds nice doesn’t it? We could get more of that wine.”

 

“Goro… you planned this. As a gift, didn’t you?”

 

“Hardly a gift if you can’t bear witness to it,” he said nonchalantly, reaching for the diamonds along her neck, “I hardly realized you were wearing this since you hated it so much. Hm, guess you’re the voyeur type of you only wear it while I’m f-“

 

“You seriously… solved the case,” she said in disbelief.

 

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m only a detective,” he remarked.

 

“Goro… thank you. I… I did a lot of bad things to get to this point. I didn’t even know I was supposed to… Valentine’s Day,” she murmured shyly, her eyes darting away from his.

 

“Heh, and here I thought you were simply trying to deviate from the standard. What a way to dash my dreams of a non-conforming woman,” he joked.

 

“I don’t need to prove that I am one,” she frowned.

 

“I know, my love. As do I,” he purred quietly, “Thank you for today. However many the secrets there are that took you to be here in this bed with me.”

 

They were silent for a moment, with Makoto watching his fingers trace the evidence of hickies along her chest.

 

“... Haru had to help me finish up. You seriously scared me when you said you were off early,” she said finally.

 

“Mmm. I was wondering where you learned how to do latte art out of nowhere. Guess Kurusu is more multifaceted than I give him credit for,” he muttered plainly, voice getting sleepier.

 

Makoto turned to him and pressed kisses to his chest, smiling when he held her tightly.

 

“She… was in the house when you came home,” she continued.

 

“I was wondering why the back door was unlocked,” he said.

 

“Ann suggested the lingerie-“

 

“Good for her.”

 

“Why are you so unsurprised?!”

 

“Because in the end, you enacted the plan of action, did you not? You did all of this with me in mind, Makoto. A memory and feeling I won’t ever forget,” he told her carefully.

 

“And… what if it becomes a bad memory?” she mentioned.

 

“I cannot answer that because I don’t want it to be.”

 

Makoto nodded, sighing happily when he exhaled and buried his face along her neck. She was beginning to fall asleep, evidence of their lovemaking catching up very quickly.

 

“I enlisted Kurusu to help me plant the flowers on your desk after work hours,” he said quickly and quietly.

 

“Goro!”

 

“I lost my wallet, and he offered to cover them. Not my best hour,” he continued.

 

She smiled against his cheek and pressed light kisses to him there. They were still a product of his thoughtfulness and affection, she decided. She returned to her position, diamond safely between her fingers and she twirled it happily as Akechi drifted into sleep.

 

“Good night,” she whispered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And as suggested, I made it spicy to no one’s surprise. Hopefully this will sate your day or night as it did for Akechi. I hope you look forward to whatever’s next —most likely magoro week in May!

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day! I wish I could’ve fit some smut in between but you know. _(:3」z)_


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